


The Bond we Make

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Sherlock, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Asexual Sherlock, Developing Relationship, M/M, Omega John, Omega John Watson, Omega Verse, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 19:53:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the middle of nowhere for a case, John realizes he forgot his suppressants....</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bond we Make

John was short of breath as they got back to the cabin. Sherlock was saying something, but he was already past him and into his room, tearing into his bag. Suppressants were hard to get outside the army, but Mycroft always kept him supplied. He shouldn’t have been in heat, not already, but apparently chasing crazy people around the backwoods for four solid days was too much. Not finding them he cursed and threw the bag, spilling the contents across the floor.

“John?” Sherlock appeared in the doorway. John could smell him, could feel himself growing wetter.

“Get out,” he growled, but didn’t move from his spot.

Sherlock moved a little closer, no doubt picking up his pheromones. “You’re going into heat?”

John closed his eyes. “Yes. Obviously. You don’t want to be here, Sherlock. This doesn’t interest you.”

“Don’t you need to be…taken care of?”

Huffing out his breath, John faced him. “Not my first heat. We’re too far from town for you to head back by yourself. Just lock the door and whatever you do, don’t come in here.”

When Sherlock didn’t move, John grabbed him and shoved him out. Then he dragged a chair in front of it. He shed his clothes and climbed into bed. Not even a toy in his bag. This was going to be miserable.

**

Sherlock stared at the door. He could hear John moving, and certainly could smell him. It was probably just as well they were deep in the country with an unbonded omega going into his heat.

There was a pathetic sound from inside the bedroom. Sherlock turned away. Have to make a full report about the case and John had made it abundantly clear he wanted no help. He sat by the door and started writing until he grew tired of it. Setting the work aside he watched the sun set. Would John be hungry? The noise had quieted a bit. Maybe some tea?

He made tea and started towards the door. A cuppa always seemed to make John happy. Two steps from the door he heard a low moan and stopped. The sound made his heart clench, but John had told him specifically not to come in. Nodding to himself he turned for his own bedroom. John had to know what was best for himself.

**

John was beyond miserable. His hands and fingers were too small to reach the places inside that were screaming to be touched. He was lying on the bed, covered in sweat, leaking and staring up at the ceiling. His hands were tired and cramping, but the need was still there. Vaguely he was aware the sun had come up.

There was a knock on the door. Before he could tell Sherlock to bugger off he’d pushed the door open, chair scraping across the floor. John rolled to his knees, weakly preparing to fight Sherlock off if he had to. But Sherlock...stood there with a tray.

“Aren’t you going to do something?” John asked warily.

“I have brought you breakfast. And I understand that sometimes a familiar alpha can help with heats, even if unbonded.” Sherlock set the tray on the foot of the bed and retreated, watching him. He would of course help John in any way he could.

John scooted down and picked up the tea. It was awful the way Sherlock made it, but it was tea. His hands shook. Sherlock took a step closer. “You did not sleep and you are physically exhausted. May I help you eat?”

He studied him. He could smell the alpha, but Sherlock was right, there was something calming. He gave a tiny nod and tugged the soaked sheet around his midsection.

“I’ll bring you fresh bedding after you eat.” He brought the fork up to John’s mouth. His friend ate quietly. Sherlock gathered the tray when he finished and stepped out. John felt his body stirring again and hastily tried to strip his bed.

But when Sherlock came in again he was curled in a ball with a half-unmade bed, fingers desperately buried in himself. Sherlock hesitated, holding the sheets under one arm. “John?”

John couldn’t speak, his chin was tucked against his chest as he tried to take care of himself. Sherlock hesitated, then crossed the room, sat, and silently tugged John in his lap. John buried his face against Sherlock’s thigh, feeling the alpha’s warmth. Cautiously, Sherlock ran a hand along his back, very careful not to dip any lower.

“People will talk,” muttered John, finding he could breathe again, even as his body trembled.

“They hardly do anything else,” answered Sherlock.

John chuckled softly against his thigh, then groaned. “I can’t believe I forgot my suppressants.”

“We did leave in quite a hurry. Does it hurt?”

“In a way. It’s more like a need. I can hardly believe you’re perfectly okay with me so close to you. Usually alphas…” He trailed off, not particularly wanting to go down that road. “Then again, when have you ever been normal about anything?”

Sherlock smiled softly. “You do always compliment me.”

John rutted against the bed, feeling his heat increasing. Sherlock watched the way he was fingering himself. “I am somewhat familiar with omega biology. Your fingers are not long enough.”

“Have to make do,” grunted John.

Sherlock looked down at his friend. John keened softly against his thigh, struggling to force his hands in farther than they could go. “May I help you, John?” He asked softly.

With a groan, John nodded, withdrawing his hand and spreading his legs a little wider. Sherlock ran his hand along his spine. He certainly knew theory regarding omega biology, but it was quite different reaching John’s soaked entrance. He ran a finger along the rim, finding he was already wide open.

“For fucks sake,” he moaned, reaching back to grab Sherlock’s wrist and shove his fingers inside.

“Oh,” said Sherlock softly. He stroked his fingers, making John moan louder. His teeth scraped Sherlock’s thigh. Taking a breath Sherlock shifted John so he was face down on the bed. He watched his face as he worked his fingers in deeper, taking note of which actions seemed to give him the most pleasure. Before Sherlock was even aware, his entire hand was inside and he could just touch a spot that made John really arch and moan. There was a loud groan and suddenly John clamped around his wrist, coming against the bed.

Sherlock rubbed his back, forming a fist inside him. John moaned happily and curled up, shifting and tugging Sherlock’s free hand to his face to nuzzle it. “Thank you,” he whispered at last, letting go.

Sherlock smoothed back his hair. “How long do your heats normally last?”

“Last time I had one was four days.” John sighed and Sherlock could feel the smaller man’s body clutching against him. It was all very….squishy.

“So three more days of this?”

“Give or take. I…am sorry Sherlock, I should not be asking you to do this.” John sighed and buried his face against the bed.

“I do believe I volunteered,” said Sherlock, watching him. “Perhaps next time I should bring a book.”

John snorted. “Next time I’ll make sure I have my suppressants.”

After a few minutes, John finally released Sherlock’s hand. He wiped it on the dirty sheets. “You should sleep,” he said. “I’ll make up the bed.”

Nodding, John heaved himself up and stumbled for the bathroom. Sherlock made up the bed and retreated to the front room before John returned.

**

There had been another heat late in the afternoon, but it didn’t sound as bad as before, and he hadn’t been called for, so Sherlock stayed out of it. He’d found a book on local wildlife and stayed curled up near the door again, keeping an ear out. He fixed dinner and carried the tray into the room. John gave him a tired smile. He’d slept, but clearly his body was exhausting him.

Sitting on the bed he helped John eat again. “You’re worried about me,” he said finally.

Sherlock inclined his head, not denying. “You’ll be fine after this heat. You’ll have your suppressants.”

John rubbed his face. “I’ve heard some say that the older an omega gets, if they don’t bond, the worse it goes for them. Mycroft’s already upped my dosage twice.”

“I was unaware,” said Sherlock, watching him.

John shrugged. “I have no desire for children.”

Sherlock watched him carefully. “If you were to mate, is there a way to prevent pregnancy?”

“Well not every mating leads to a child, especially for an omega of my age. I’m sure Mycroft knows of methods to prevent it happening at all.” He blinked at Sherlock. “Are you proposing what I think you are?”

Sherlock met his eyes. “You could still take the suppressants, but if this were to happen again, you would not need to suffer as much. I have never felt any desire to bond, but if I were to, then it would be with you.”

John shivered. “I suppose, Sherlock, that I feel the same. That if I must have an alpha, I would rather it was you.”

Swallowing, Sherlock reached out and touched John’s arm. “What do I do?”

With a tiny smile John leaned in and kissed him softly, reaching to unbutton Sherlock’s shirt. Sherlock watched him, hardly daring to breath. Pushing the shirt aside, John kissed him a little harder, reaching for his belt. Realizing he should participate a bit more, Sherlock ran his hands along his arms, opening his mouth as John’s tongue slipped inside. His cock stirred, even more as John’s hand wrapped around him. Sherlock’s head rocked back. “Oh, John.”

“Here, just lay back,” said John, getting his trousers and pants off. Sherlock watched him as John expertly brought him to attention, his knot just starting to swell. John straddled his hips and slowly lowered himself down.

Sherlock gasped, hands going to John’s hips. John’s head rocked back as he ground down, moaning as Sherlock’s cock reached that spot his fingers had only brushed. Rocking up, against him, Sherlock watched his face, amazed by the play of emotions he saw there. His own body was changing as well, the knot starting to swell. And oh, that felt quite good.

John groaned again. Didn’t omegas prefer to be underneath? He rolled them over, pinning John’s arms. The man moaned appreciatively, wrapping his legs around Sherlock and pulling him deeper. Yes, this was all quite messy, but John didn’t seem to mind at all, hands skittering across his back. Sherlock buried his face in the crook of John’s neck, inhaling his scent, feeling his knot swelling just that much more at the stimulation. Curious. John cried out suddenly, coming between them. Sherlock’s orgasm hit him like a brick, losing all focus for a moment. When he opened his eyes again he found himself staring at a mark he knew he’d placed there.

“John?” he asked cautiously.

“Mmf, you should move,” said John.

A brief tangle of limbs later, Sherlock was curled up against John’s back, examining the mark he had left. “Does it hurt?”

“Hmm? No, not at all.” John’s hand found his and he threaded their hands together. “Thank you.” His voice sounded much stronger already.

“Do you wish to make this official?”

John turned his head as much as he could. “You mean a ceremony?”

“Only if you wish to.” Sherlock found himself looking at John’s fingers.

“Yes, I will marry you, you daft git. Feels like we’re halfway there already. We should sleep, still have another day or so of this.”

John closed his eyes and soon the rise and fall of his chest told Sherlock he was asleep. Sherlock watched him until John’s body released him and he could carefully get up again. He tucked the man in and went back out to the front room. Well, John did have a point, they were already mistaken for a married couple. And it would irk Mycroft. Excellent plan then.

Yawning, Sherlock started for his room. He paused and looked at John’s door. He might be needed sometime in the night. Nodding to himself he pushed open the door and climbed back in next to John. Rolling over, John wrapped his arms around Sherlock and held him close.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to Stitchnik's livestream for the inspiration and encouragement. You all know who you are.
> 
> You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


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